20th May - 'Only God could have created this'

Well rested we could finally head up to Grand Canyon.
Eschewing the Native Americans and their 80-dollars-a-pop walkway we headed for the South side of The Bloody Big Hole.
I am not a man who possesses the linguistic fortitude to accurately portray the magnificence of this place that can only be fully appreciated when you're there. But I definitely count this as one of the best days of my life and the most mind-smashingly incredible thing I have ever seen.
To add to the adrenalin that comes from being in such a place I felt the need to really get close to death and dangle my pins over the edge.


















You can't really tell from this but I am at the cusp of a very very sharp drop a very very long way down. Ian and Owen's tickers were thumping at quite a pace, not to mention my own. There was a lot of walking around, a lot of very very touristy people (see the blog title of this day.....) but we were able to find moments of solitude and silence. We also found a stage where I was able to act out my one-man revue 'Bare Pleasures' to an enraptured audience of one...





























As any performer will tell you, once you leave the stage you need to recreate that buzz over and over or you'll end up like Tony Hancock. We had been traversing the canyon's south side by car and foot and now we went to one of the sticky-outest bits where I found a little crevis I could slide down to a point that REALLY stuck out.
















There's Owen in the foreground and I can be spotted out on a limb somewhat in the background. As I sidled to the edge a Welsh couple who were next to Ian and Owen advised against my path but I was down there now and was afforded the best and most thrilling view of the whole Bloody Big Hole. Suddenly the couple got very excited as there were now herds of condors (that looked like eagles or pterodactyls to me) circling above my head which made me more anxious than I already was. I have never been so scared in all my days but edging towards the edge of the edge was the most shitpantfilling thing I've ever experienced and a view I'll never forget (despite the lack of photographic evidence!).


















This is the kind of place you can stand and stare for hours on end but we didn't have hours on end to spare so we made tracks North-West towards the City of Sin.

After a good bit of driving and a stop-off in the desert we came across the Hoover Dam. Got some good video footage and no good photos. I became aroused at the sight of the new suspension bridge that they're building right above the fucker! It looked amazing and I hope to go back there once It's completed.
Here's one for dam enthusiasts:
















We then drove into Vegas as the sun vacated the sky and were given a champion view of all the twinkling lights before us.
We were staying in the MGM Grand which is one of the big buggers right at the beginning of Las Vegas Boulevard and where Ricky Hatton had been sadly knocked on his arse two weeks hence. We were now officially Big-Time Charlie Bananas.
This was turning into a long day but we were determined to at least go out on a recce to scope out this town before retiring. I tried in vain to blag anything free that I could or get an upgrade for our hotel room. I blocked the toilet, complained about the safe, complained about the iron, complained about the lock on the door but NO, they just fixed everything quickly and efficiently the stupid dickheads!















Owen had recommened we eat at Mirage. 'Oh look there it is, just down the strip'....

After the best part of an hour we finally arrived at one of Mirage's eateries.

Height + A Massive Sign = Loss of Distance Perception
(H + AMS = LoDP) - remember this vital equation.

Owen and I each opted for the beef sandwich, Ian for the Woody Allen.
The picture can describe this beast better than I. MEAT.














Wow. Mine was similar but not quite as ridiculous but I'm proud to say I finished it.

We decided to head for home and stop off at a few places on the way. I am proud also, that I didn't push one of the many Mexicans who line the strip flapping cards at you in a very annoying fashion under a fucking bus.

We went to Bally's casino which was a very sobering experience, the clientele there were not having fun, neither were the bar tenders.

So we hopped on the monorail back to the MGM, a much sensibler option with all the meat we were now carrying. We had a drink in Centrifuge, one of her many bars and Ian went back to the room for some much needed rest. This pleasant end to the evening was hampered by a very very rude chap who was 'hollering' at the bar people but order was restored when Owen won 80 dollars at video roulette when we thought he's won forty!

BED!

19th May - 'Thank you for being a friend...'

'I'll have water please'
'YOU'LL HAVE WATER'
'I'll have steak and eggs'
'YOU'LL HAVE STEAK AND EGGS'
'Can I have the the omelette'
'YOU WANT THE OMELETTE'
'I'll have the full breakfast'
'YOU'LL HAVE THE FULL BREAKFAST'
'Can we get the bill please?'
'YOU WANT THE BILL'

Not a great way to begin another blazing morning, being patronised to within an inch of our lives by the most annoying, monotous waitress ever.
Onwards. This time giving the car nice regular rests 'twixt towns.
In one little backwater we decided to stop at some kind of outlet that sold, food, useful things, souvenirs guns but most importantly - Jesus T-shirts.
Owen went for 'Pick Jesus' beautifully written into a plectrum and being the rockin' dude I am, I opted for 'Stick with Jesus' and a drum kit. But you can't buy christian paraphernalia without offsetting this good deed and doing some Winona Ryder-style shoplifting. So I decided to tink these nifty specs as I've always wanted to look like one of The Golden Girls.















We were heading for Williams and thankfully had 'three tickets to Paradise' at The Holiday Inn. Not a lot to do in 'lil ol' Williams. I chose to dine alone in the hotel restaurant and Ian and Owen went to get some shambolic takeaway.

Then we hit the pool and the hot-tub. This was a family place and it was here that we really had to get the potty-mouth in check as filthy Brits we had no idea just how much we were cussing. There was a very perturbing pigeon-chested, handlebar-moustached lothario already in the hot-tub who gave us a sly 'hey what's going on' that fair chilled the blood...

We splashed, we romped, we took part in 'all manner of prohibited activities', leaving only Heavy Petting out of the equation. Then it was time to make our way out of the pool, much to my chagrin as I had just found a couple of beach balls in a nearby Wendy House!

We had a few jars (Boddingtons!) in the bar - even though I am the oldest of the triumverate it was I who was ID'd, what with having the face of a feral child.

On the return to the room I have never seen Owen break out and LOL so much as I did when we flicked onto HBO and their graphic depiction of very fat people having very naughty adult hug time.

Here I am lapping up the filth (excuse the poor photography).

18th May - 'I been driving all night, my hands wet on the wheel'

Right, time to get out of this den of iniquity and head East across the country for another 800 mile drive!
Guess what?
It was really hot!
On the way out of town we stopped off at City Hall to get some more Dirty Harry shots.
Then we began to eat up the miles in our trusty Toyota Rav 4. She had been a good runner, serving us well down the west coast and up and down the treacherous hills of San Francisco.
But unbeknownst to us she was tired. Tired and thirsty. Tired and thirsty and unwell. If she'd have told us we would have helped her. But she did not tell us, she attempted to push on into the desert towards Grand Canyon, the brave little tyke.
As we trundled up a hill she could take it no more. We had driven her for four hours straight in oppressively hot conditions, but did she beep at us or attract our attention with a little light? No she did not. She died quietly, peacefully and with no steamy fuss in the middle of fucking nowhere.














After letting her cool down for an hour and hearing a snake in the bushes which hastened my path back inside the car with great ferocity we relied upon her to take us to the next habitable town, the name of which escapes me.
Alamo were good but their nearest replacement car was in Burbank which is in LA...
SO we had to wait for four hours in which time it got dark. We had some food in City Slickers - Yee-haw! Then we ran the battery on the laptop and the car down watching episodes of The Office in a hotel car-park while we waited for the cavalry. A lot of people in this town have affairs and choose this hotel to rut in or to swap cars before going home.
The very nice man named Michael brought us a car which was a welcome relief but at the same time could also be described as a shitty Nissan.
Not to worry! Let's get some miles under our belts after all this wasted time! Let's go really fast down the dark empty freeways! There are sure to be no police around here!
Ten minutes in and we're doing 90 in a 65. Wooo! We'll be there in no time!
I didn't know they have stealth police cars in America but from out of nowhere come the flashing lights. Oh bollocks. I did what you're supposed to do, slowed down and pulled off to the left side of the road - except this is the US so you're supposed to pull over to the right of course. I suddenly realised this and swerved back over the other side to finally pull over, which made me look like I was pissed up. He went full on with the spotlight and everything which shit me up real good cos these fuckers have guns and probably take steroids.

Ian and I must have speaking about three-thousand words a minute as we explained that we are English, stupid, had broken down and I'm so sorry please don't give me the full cavity search. He couldn't hear a word we were saying and got bored after a bit, took pity and let us off but not before a quick chiding 'the speed limit on this road is 65 miles per hour; that 6...5 MILES per hour not kilometres'.

The last bit doesn't make sense cos if I thought the speed limits were in kilometres I would have been going slower.... I decided to not point this out and drove for the next three hours with the cruise control set on 75mph (they're not going to notice 10mph are they?)

I drove til three in the morning, the adrenaline still pumping in my veins but the other two demanded rest so we stopped at a Best Western in the town of Needles.
Two things stood out here.
1. Lots of insects which made me very uneasy.
2. A man wearing nothing but short shorts sprinting across a petrol station forecourt in the middle of the night. I would label him a homosexual amphetamine freak but it's wrong to generalise.

17th May

Yesterday was the hottest day ever - this was the hottest day ever after.
We did sod-all in the day (to the best of my recollection) and then went to see Mogwai at another swanky ballroom. They really do have better mid-size venues in America.
I shouted 'Stephen!!!' as loud as possible and gleefully listened as the reply 'just coming!' rang throughout the auditorium. Unfortunately it was Ian, and not some savvy local.
If you don't know what any of that Stephen nonsense means. I must urge you to listen to Adam&Joe on BBC6Music. Do actually do it, you won't regret it, listen to podcasts and laugh.
That's pretty much it!
No pics or stories!
Sorry!

16th May - The birthday of Ian

Feelin' hot hot hot. Oppressive heat once again, and once again we slept in a bit too late.
Owen snuck away to get Ian some lovely records whilst I was recovering from staying up all night to watch City v. Spurs.
Then we went to Alcatraz! Tickets booked, we got on the ferry over to The Rock and embarked on the award-winning audio guided tour. It was really very good and a must go to in SF. It's already an eerie and foreboding place to go to but with the tour describing things like The Battle of Alcatraz it really adds colour to the famous stories.
Here I am with Owen re-enacting a Cable Guy scene and offering up a solitary nipple in the name of vicarious sexual gratification.














I won't bore you with all the details (that are actually really interesting) but suffice to say it was a great excursion and managed to be touristy and cool at the same time. Here I am giving Ian a prison-yard shivving.














We decided that on this most auspicious of occasions we should go somewhere good for tea tonight so we went to supposedly the best Chinese restaurant in town, The House of Nan King (yes we laughed). It was cramped, really hot and the waitresses were very curt but it was well worth having to queue to get in. I bought Ian his meal for his birthday as I lack imagination.
We were lucky enough to be waited on by the renowned owner Peter Fang who cooked us up a 'special dish' - this was easily the best meal we had throughout the trip. Hank could learn a thing or two from Peter Fang!

For night-time chuckles we went to notorious Mission area on the south of the city. We had been warned several times about this area but what are you gonna do? Cab there and back and it turned out to be fine and a bit of a hipster haven.
Started off in Elixir and it was Ian birthday so he had to get the drinks in.....ahem. He took hours to get serves cos in America they fucking love sitting at the bar and getting right in the way.
Then off to a bit of a rock bar called Kilowatt that had Mastodon on the wireless and pictures of dogs on the wall. Good.
Then we went to the hottest bar in the world which was uncomfortable to say the least. After a while a real character started talking to us.
'Hey you want this drink, I just bought it for a girl and she walked away'
No thanks.
He cottoned on that we were British and tried to get us to cruise the bar with him picking up girls. He was about 35, had ridiculously curly hair and a very very annoying voice and manner. Any girl that walked past he would grab then, tell them we were British and then try to engage them in sexy-talk.
We escaped to the quietest bar in the world in which the barman who hates Man United put some premier league action on for me.
Bit drunk now and on to the final bar where I was ceremonially made the judge of a kissing contest in a photo booth. Two lads who were trying to entice two femmes were willing to snog each other if the girls would also do so. The lads won as they displayed far more passion than the tentative girls who merely hugged. honestly, the men in this country will do fucking ANYTHING for pusseh.
Played pin the tail on the donkey, accosted by a few more weirdos then home.
Not a bad night all-in-all!

15th May - The consequences of jumping are fatal and tragic

This was (as the now bankrupt former Dragons Denner Rachel Elnaugh more would say) a red letter day.
Hank reminded us all of his presence and the hangover made us get up late but we paid no mind and headed back to North Beach and Coit Tower. This place was built with cash from the deceased and seemingly nutty Lizzie Coit who left a third of her large wealth for the betterment of San Fran. Good on the old boot!
The tower affords pretty spectacular three-sixty views of the city taking in Alcatraz, the city centre, loads of water and a foxy lady that we'll talk about in good time.
But first we had to park up and figure up how to get there. I decided to ask a fifty year old power-walker with a mouth like Jaws from James Bond who was very helpful and lovely and told us to take the scenic route. Then we did the awkward thing of saying thanks, bye etc and walking in the same direction and pace as the other person and having nothing to say to them.
We were ill-prepared for what lay in wait for us following the lady's ill advice that we should walk up to the tower. There is a very famous and scenic street called Lombard street that looks like this:













Instead we got to climb what was, at a conservative estimate, about 50 million steps. No jokes. Tenner bet. Ask my mum.
I didn't mind and was (very) annoyingly running up the buggers two at a time and looking back at the other two who were somewhat less enthusiastic about the ascent. We eventually got to the top and into a lift (5 dorrar) up the monument to generous eccentricity. 'I hope it makes it dis time' parroted the lift guy for, no exaggeration ask my tenner, the 50 millionth time. For me this concern was genuine as it was, to say the least, an antiquated beast. I also developed the early onset of claustrophobia as the further south you go, the fatter Americans get and we were fair packed in to this 'elevator'. Breathless and red I got out just before i thought I'd pass out for no good reason at all. We got some good views through tiny wee windows.














Now the real sightseeing could begin.

We were eight miles away but i could hear her calling to me in the wind. 'Come walk 'pon my back, feel my cables in your human hands, press your warm face 'gainst my cold towers, marvel at my parabola gradient...' she seemed to say.

There was no way I could drive so Ian took charge of the vehicle as we were going to sight numero one on my list and I needed to soak it in.
















As she loomed in the distance I couldn't believe she was so close after seeing so many pictures and films. We drove across to North Vista Point which was absolutely freezing as the sun was about to set, then drove through a tunnel with a rainbow on it from the Dirty Harry films. We could now drive back over to the Presidio side and my all too brief fling could begin.
















It was getting pretty chilly over this side as well but the views were fantastic on a clear day and as the sun said goodnight we stepped on with the various cyclists, joggers, tourists, budding suiciders and prom night kids. It truly is a magnificent structure and you can't really comprehend how much until you actually get on it and 'feel the heft' so to speak.
















I have to say that if I was a confused, desperate homosexual, this is where I would come to end it all. So if I ever tearily book a ticket to San Fran please MAKE THE CALL on my behalf.
It was very windy and I was giddy and thought that I looked like once of those wizard fellas in Lord Of The Rings with my jacket flapping about me dramatically as I demanded photo after photo be taken.
















When we got to the first tower I was idly looking over the edge when I thought I saw a diver swimming around the base of the great weight-transference structure. Then he leapt out of the water with a quick thrash of his tail and bit down hard on a seabird before dragging it under the water! Whaaa?! This was no human it was a seal/sea lion (I can't be sure, I'm no Terry Nutkins)!!!
And another!
And another!
Rapture and joy unbridled! They were all at it! Jumping out of the water and grabbing at birds! I told some nearby twenty-something tourists who appeared to have gone blind, gave up on them and alerted a nearby father and child combo who were equally excited by this unexpected treat.
Amazing.
Here's the tower we watched this from before the other two made me come home.















Then we ordered a fairly substandard take-away, got tickets to see Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles at midnight, didn't go cos we were too tired and went to bed.
THANKS A LOT HANK

14th May

We went a few blocks away from Union Square onto Bush Street and the Mayflower Hotel.
It was good to be staying somewhere that had individuality and was reasonably nice. It was even nicer that when I complained to the staff that our keycards weren't working I also managed to get an upgrade into the nicest available room!
So now we had a seperate sleeping area and a wee kitchen.
Great.
After settling in we planned a night out on the advice of a local bartender who suggested we try North Beach and Columbus Avenue. Unfortunately we hadn't planned on anywhere to eat so settled on Hanks Sandwich Bar before embarking on the walk up to North Beach. This would have been a funny excursion had the repercussions of Hanks 'food' not lingered with us all for days - that's all I'll say about that.

NEVER EAT AT HANKS. Hank himself staggered in at 8pm as we were halfway through our chow bringing with him what i can only presume was a multiple divorcee of advanced years who thought she still had the goods to cash the checks. He pumped up the volume on the terrible 80's mix and staggered across to get great splashes of cheap white wine into horrible whiskey glasses before briefly leaving his mistress to slur a string of unintelligble (what i can only presume) insults at us whilst stagger-dancing. Hanks place must have been 10ft by 10ft by the way....
















So we headed to North Beach, did our usual party trick of aimlessly wandering around for a good hour, and eventually happened upon a pretty crappy bar with a pretty crappy DJ who upon further inspection I confirmed, WAS in fact a woman. Of sorts.
This place was like a cross between the streets shown in Taxi Driver filled with the people shown in Saved By The Bell - The College Years. Strip club after strip club after strip club with various twats outside trying to entice/force people in. No (t)Hanks.
We went slightly south into what seemed to be an under-18's bar and saw the San Fran Bizzaro World version of Jesse. Yes it was Jewel's band and they were utter garbage and they had no idea.Here we are enjoying another one of Jewel's inimitable solo's
















After one ridiculously priced and weak drink we decided to hop in a cab and go back to near our hotel. Come on San Fran! Buck your ideas up!
We decided to go to Bigfoot Lodge which was the place Ian and Owen had received their shoddy advice some hours hence. This is a good place and there's a massive statue of Sasquatch in the bar and a good video jukebox. This was better.

Ian decided to leave so me and Owen went to another bar called Hemlock which was excellent. Here i encountered a woman who looked like a bag lady wandering around the bar with two coolboxes on a trolley which contained free cake. She was giving out slices and professionally printed fliers as enticements for strangers to her upcoming 50th birthday party. I politely declined... Here i am moments later; the best places usually have the worst toilets. Out of the blue I exclaimed my delight at Bikini Kill to two confused but not overly-perturbed girls and we left.
















We decided to have one more across the road at Vertigo, a bar/club that was themed on the famous film, that should be cool right? Hmmm not really, it was very touristy but it was good to people-watch and we'd had our fair share of boozy fun in the end and we could walk home satisfied.